


not an illusion to me

by crashing_into_the_sun



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Baz Pitch - Freeform, Cheerleader!Simon, Fluff, M/M, Simon Snow - Freeform, SnowBaz, fake relationship au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-22
Updated: 2016-11-22
Packaged: 2018-09-01 12:45:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8624944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crashing_into_the_sun/pseuds/crashing_into_the_sun
Summary: Simon's tried everything. The new girl on his cheerleading just won't take a hint. He's going to have to resort to more desperate measures.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Yes I know I should be writing delirium or Junior Year!! My mind won't work, so here, have a ficlet instead. Based on a tumblr prompt ("This person won't stop hitting on me, quick pretend to be my boyfriend"). Also on my tumblr (crashing-into-the-sun). Title from Illusion by One Direction, because I'm One Direction trash #1

The best part of being on the cheerleading team was how his teammates felt like his family. That was what Simon told everyone when they asked him why he had joined. “Not to mention you get to be around all the hot babes,” Rhys had remarked once, earning a withering gaze from Simon.

That was arguably the worst part.

The team was something Simon knew he never wanted to give up. He loved tumbling and dancing and stunting, loved the energy and the spirit and the way he could completely forget who he was when they were running through their competition routine. The rush of adrenaline when his stunt group’s flyer hit the top of the basket toss perfectly and they caught her in a tight cradle, the fantastic feeling of jumping so high your legs went behind your arms, the crowd screaming his name as he went for his round off back handspring back tuck. The network of thirteen girls that he knew always had his back. Those were the things that made cheering Simon’s sport. Baz did football, and Simon cheered, and sometimes, Simon cheered for Baz while he played football. It was a good setup.

What wasn’t a good setup was the new girl on the team.

Her name was Annaliese, she had blonde hair that she put in pigtail braids, and she had the smallest feet of anyone Simon had ever seen. Since their main flyer had broken her ankle, they’d been having tryouts for the open spot, and tiny-but-muscular Annaliese fit the bill. She was part of Simon’s stunt group, the top of the pyramid, and Simon was her back. Meaning that in order to get her up into stunts, there was a lot of inevitable butt-touching involved. Cheering was a close contact sport, no way around it. Simon didn’t mind anymore, but it had been weird at first.

Annaliese still hadn’t gotten used to it, apparently. And it was clear that she’d gotten a little too fond of Simon in the past two weeks. She was problem one. Problem two? Simon wasn’t out yet.

“Hey, Si,” she called out to him as he walked across the parking lot after practice. She was wearing pink Nike Pros and her shoelaces were undone.

“You aren’t supposed to wear your uniform shoes outside,” he replied. 

“Sorry, I forgot.” She bent down and slipped the shoes off, sock footed in the cold grass. Simon looked pointedly at her feet, but she just shrugged. “We did pretty good today, yeah?”

Simon nodded. “You hit that last stunt really well. I think the judges are going to love it,” he remarked. Edging towards his car. It was cold, and he really didn’t feel like another one-sided flirting session.

"I couldn’t have done it without you,” she gushed, moving towards Simon as he moved away, oblivious to his discomfort. “You’re so strong.”

"Um..” Simon mumbled, glancing down at his phone. He hoped he could convey enough disinterest to get her off his back. “Thanks.”

"Listen, I was wondering if you’d want to grab a coffee tomorrow after practice? My uncle owns the shop on Fourth Street, we could get a great discount.” She smiled hopefully. Simon felt bad for refusing again, but he had to.

"Sorry, Annaliese. I have plans tomorrow.” At least this time, he wasn’t lying. He and Baz were going to the theater. Simon had wanted to see the new Purge movie, but Baz had talked him into Finding Dory, and he was more excited than he wanted to admit. “I’m going to see a movie with a friend.”

"Oh,” was her response. She glanced down at her bare legs, pricked with goosebumps, and her feet, wet from the dewy grass. “Hey, I have an idea,” she said, suddenly perking up. Simon wasn’t sure he liked where this was going.

"Yeah?” He asked, tentative. His hand rested on the handle to the driver’s side door. He wanted out.

"I could go with you and your friend! It could be like a double date, if we can find another person!” 

Simon was about to refuse, but something in the back of his brain was starting to form. Something that sounded like a plan. Instead, he smiled.

"Sounds good. I’ll text you the details.”

He got into the car before she could rope him into twenty more minutes of conversation. He had a call to make.

-

"Hey loser,” Baz’s voice rang through the tinny connection. “How did practice go?”

Simon let an exasperated sigh, rolling over on his bed. He pressed the phone closer to his ear. “Ughhhhh,” he moaned. It was answer enough.

"Annaliese again? I keep telling you, there’s no other way. You’re just going to have to tell her.”

"That’s what I was calling to ask you about,” Simon started. He wasn’t sure why his heart was pounding as hard as it was. “I think I made a date with her.”

"What? What the hell, Simon? You can’t lead her on!”

"No, no, that’s not what I mean. I mean that we…” He trailed off. “Look, she just won’t leave me alone, and I don’t see any other way.”

"I’m not catching what you’re saying,” Baz said, his voice still edged with irritation.

"This isn’t weird, alright? Don’t be weird about this.”

"Don’t be weird about what?” Simon could feel his cheeks burning.

"She won’t stop hitting on me, man. I need you to be my… My fake date.” The words sounded strangled.

“Your what? Your pancake? I know that isn’t what you said. This connection sucks balls, Simon.”

"I know it does,” Simon agreed, rubbing his hand against his forehead. This was more stressful than he’d anticipated. “I need you to bring some guy with you to go out with Annaliese. To the movie tomorrow, Finding Dory?”

"How is that going to help anything?” Baz asked. Simon groaned. Baz wasn’t catching on- he was just going to have to say it.

"I got us a double date with Annaliese, and I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend,” Simon spat. The silence on the other end was louder than anything he’d ever heard. If Baz refused this, what did that mean if Simon ever asked him out for real? Baz was gay, Simon knew, but that didn’t mean he was into Simon. If the idea of fake-dating Simon was too absurd to contemplate, Simon didn’t have a chance.

"Alright,” Baz said after a while. He sounded reluctant. Simon was disappointed at his tone. “I think I can get Niall to go. Let me ask.”

-

 

Simon glanced at himself in the mirror and cursed. Baz always helped him when he wanted to look good- what about when he wanted to look good for Baz? This was supposed to be a fake date, to turn Annaliese off of Simon for good. Baz couldn’t know that Simon wanted to look good at all. He tried wetting his hair down again, but that just made it look greasy. When he tucked his shirt in his pants, he looked like a geek. When he unbuttoned it, he looked like a douche. When he buttoned it, it was too tight around his shoulders.

"You alright in there, sport?” Lucy knocked on the bathroom door. “You’ve been a while. Are you having trouble with the tie? It’s a movie date. You probably shouldn’t wear the tie anyway.”

Simon opened the door, staring at his mother with an exasperation that was tangible. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” he confessed. Lucy took one look at his hair, an amalgamation of random products and blow drying in the wrong direction and a failed attempt at a man bun, and laughed.

"Get back in the shower," she said through the giggles. "I'll find you a better shirt. This one hasn't fit since ninth grade."

Simon handed the shirt over and began running the water again, as hot as he could stand it. He needed to calm the fuck down. Baz had seen him first thing in the morning when his hair looked like a rat’s nest and he had a hole in the back of his sweatpants that showed his Mickey Mouse boxers. He had nothing to worry about. Besides, this wasn’t even a real date, he reminded himself. 

He stayed in the second shower for a little longer than he probably should have, and got out when his fingers started pruning up and he couldn’t feel his back anymore from the steady heat of the shower water pounding on it. Wrapping a towel around his waist, he shut the tap off and called for Lucy. 

"Mom, I’m out!”

"Come into the living room, rosebud, I’ll blow dry your hair for you.”

It was a comforting feeling, to have his mother’s fingers running through his hair. The smell of sugar cookies wafted in from the kitchen where they were baking in the oven. “Why are you so worked up about this, anyway? Do you like this girl that much?”  
"No, Mom, it’s not..” Simon trailed off. His heart raced in his chest. “It’s not the girl.”

"Alright,” she said, but didn’t press the issue. That was one of the things Simon loved most about Lucy. He was pretty sure she knew that Simon was gay, pretty sure she knew that Simon was head over heels for Baz, pretty sure she’d known both of these things since before Simon had known. But she never pushed. She left the gates open for Simon, but was perfectly content if he decided he wanted to sit outside them.

It was a few quiet minutes before she turned the blow dryer off. “Turn to me,” she told Simon, who obliged. She mussed his hair up in a way that was a little painful, then tucked his cowlick behind his ear and smiled at her handiwork. “There,” she said, and motioned to a chair. “I picked you out a better shirt. The pants are okay, but I’d wear the black jeans if I were you. They make you look taller.”

Ariana Grande was his pump-up music, what he played in his room while he got dressed and sprayed on his cologne. He popped a piece of gum in his mouth, mint flavored, just in case, and checked the time. 6:48. Baz would be here any minute with Niall, and then they were meeting Annaliese at the theater. He looked one last time at himself, mouthed one last lyric into his hairbrush/microphone, nodded and headed downstairs.

-

"Hop in the back, dweeb,” Simon yelled at Niall as he hurtled himself towards the car. Baz had the top down, had his hair slicked back and sunglasses perched on his head. He looked cool and calm as always, and Simon felt something slippery in the pit of his stomach.

"Simon’s right, Niall,” Baz laughed. “He’s my date, it’s my car. Date gets shotgun.” Simon tried not to blush at the term. Niall scrambled awkwardly into the back, and Simon opened the door and slid into the seat. 

"Buckle up,” he said to Baz, more out of habit than anything. Baz never buckled his seatbelt, and it drove Simon crazy.

"Whatever you say, Mom,” Baz laughed, poking Simon in the side. “Looking sharp,” he commented. Simon gulped.

"You too.” Baz really was looking sharp. He was wearing his leather jacket, the one he only took out of his closet on the weekends. The car pulled out of the driveway, and Simon tried to mimic Baz’s body language, leaning back on the seat in what he hoped looked like a chill way.

"So what does this chick look like?” Niall asked from the backseat.

"She’s the little blonde one with the braids,” Simon replied, turning around to look at Niall in the backseat. “She played Tiny Tim in the drama play last year.”

"Oh, sweet, bro. She’s hot.” NIall fist-pumped, and Simon tried not to laugh at him.

"When are we starting this?” Baz asked, motioning between Simon and Baz. “When we get to the movie theater? What are the boundaries?”

Simon swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down in his throat. “Whatever, just make it believable. I need her off my case.”

"Will do,” Baz smirked, and reached over to take Simon’s hand. Their fingers laced together and Simon could have sworn an electric current raced up his arm and down to his toes. “Practice makes perfect,” he said when Simon gave him a surprised look.

-

She really did look nice, Simon thought when they found Annaliese. She was standing awkwardly, leaning against a wall. She wore a tan suede miniskirt and a striped cardigan with little black boots. The outfit was a little contrived, but cute. “Hey, Annaliese!” Simon called out as they drove past her. He waved with the hand Baz wasn’t holding, and she waved back, her face breaking automatically into a smile.

Baz parked and got out of the car, holding up his hand when Simon went to reach for the handle. “No, if we’re doing this, we’re doing it right,” he insisted, and walked around to open the door for Simon.

"Thanks,” Simon laughed, trying not to look like he was having a heart attack when Baz took his hand again.

"Bro, are you going to open the door for me?” Niall whined.

"I’m sure you can figure it out,” Baz retorted. Niall sighed and swung the door open, stepping out. 

"Hi, Simon!” Annaliese said, walking over towards them. Her boots made a little clicking noise against the sidewalk. The car was still in the way of the fact that Simon and Baz were holding hands, Simon realized. He let go of Baz’s hand and circled around, giving her a quick hug.

"Anna, this is Niall,” Simon told her, pointing to the watery-eyed boy. He smiled self-consciously, pulling the hem of his Nirvana t-shirt down further and exposing one prominent collar bone.

"Hey,” she nodded at Niall, who stepped closer. Baz came around the car and wrapped his leather-clad arm around Simon’s shoulder.

"This is Baz,” he continued, reaching up towards the hand that Baz was dangling over Simon’s chest and grabbing it for a second. He hoped that was obvious enough. Annaliese’s eyes clouded for a second.

"Wh- um,” she started, but stopped. “Cool,” she finally decided on, holding her hand out. Baz shook it. “Are you on the football team?” She asked, and Baz nodded.

"Number 15,” he said, and Anna smiled.

"I know you,” she said offhandedly. “You’re the captain.”

"That’s me,” Baz smirked, and started leading Simon into the building. Simon noticed the little furrow in Annaliese’s brow as she was left to walk beside Niall, but they started making small talk, and it didn’t sound like it was too insufferable, so he decided not to worry about it.

"Four tickets to Finding Dory,” Baz told the clerk when they reached the front of the line. He still had his arm around Simon’s shoulder, and Simon found himself missing the weight of it immediately when he reached for his wallet.

They ordered two popcorns to share between the four of them and settled into their seats in the dark theater. They’d arrived a little later than normal, so they had to sit near the back. Simon cursed himself. “I didn’t wear my contacts,” he groaned.

"I got you, babe,” Baz said breezily and grabbed the extra pair of glasses he’d carried around for Simon since seventh grade from his pocket. They were basically a couple already, Simon realized as he took the glasses and slipped them on. The only difference was the handholding, the ‘babes’. The only difference was that now, when the glasses settled against Simon’s nose, Baz leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

"You look so cute in your glasses,” he said into Simon’s ear, too quiet for Annaliese to hear. She’d obviously caught on now, was eyeballing them to the extreme, but she seemed to be getting on with Niall alright. She wasn’t visibly upset. Mission completed.  
So why was Baz saying couple-y things when she couldn’t even hear?

Why was he grabbing Simon’s hand and pulling it onto his lap, rubbing his thumb against Simon’s fingers, when the lights went out and Anna’s eyes were fixed on the screen?

Why was he brushing his lips against Simon’s ear every time he had something to say, his breath hot against the sensitive skin in that spot?

The movie went by in a blur. If you asked Simon what happened, he wouldn’t have been able to tell you.

When they left the theater, Annaliese and Niall were clasping hands, and neither looked unhappy about it.

So why did Baz keep his hand on the small of Simon’s back?

It was almost silent on the ride back, except for a few mentions of what time cheering practice was in the morning and Annaliese giving directions to her house (her mother had dropped her off at the theater- she didn’t have a license yet).

Niall and Annaliese were gone, so why were they still holding hands? Simon's mind spun. 

Baz walked him to the door, shoulders brushing and bumping against one another.

Under the porch light, no one was watching them. They might as well have been the only people in the world.

So why did Baz lean down and brush his nose against Simon’s, push his cold lips into Simon’s warm ones, run his fingers through Simon’s curls, slide one hand up Simon’s back until it cupped the back of his neck?

Maybe Simon’s crush wasn’t such a one-sided affair after all.


End file.
